She does not sleep in consecrated ground, Within a walled and populous town of death. Her soul loved solitude. Now in the deep spruce wood She sleeps alone. Only the shy young deer approach the stone, A rough-hewn granite full of ruby fire, (Her life was fire). Only the wandering wind, the climbing briar. It is her own desire To sleep alone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A CHILD DANCING IN THE WIND: 2 by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS COMFORT by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE CONFESSIONAL by ROBERT BROWNING THE ENEMY by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE RISE, GLORIOUS CONQUEROR! RISE by MATTHEW BRIDGES VERSAILLES (1784) by STOPFORD AUGUSTUS BROOKE |